


For want of a rose

by Icie



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Ending B spoilers, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 13:16:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16138034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icie/pseuds/Icie





	For want of a rose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skylark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylark/gifts).



The Commander never puts away her things. 6O picks her way through them to peer at the commander, draped as carelessly across the bed as her things are across the floor. She giggles at the way the commander's lips part to allow her to breathe softly through her mouth.

Sometimes it seems like the commander gets lonely, being the one in charge. While it's inevitable that someone has to be at the top, 6O thinks it's a little sad how isolated it leaves the commander. She picks up the closest item of clothing off the mess littering every surface, determines that while mostly clean, it has been used, and folds the shirt into a square-according to YORHA standards.

Somewhere along the line the commander stirs, and when 6O smiles at her behind her comms veil the commander's lips twitch in response.

"Good morning," she chirps.

The commander stretches out, linking her finger s and flexing them right back to her shoulders.  
"Was there some emergency while I slept?"

6O shakes her head, continuing her work turning the discarded items into ordered heaps. "All quiet planet-side, Commander."

"I see," the commander says.

6O chooses to remain silent as she finds a nest of undergarments tucked behind the leg of the commander's desk, despite the commander's gaze fixed on her hands. She sort of thought the underthings might have brought forth a comment, but the commander keeps the peace.

"We're going to have some long days. soon," she says once 6O has nearly finished her excavation of the floor.

"Understood," 6O confirms.

The commander eyes her like she's debating whether she can believe her.

6O hopes she can.

*  
6O's eyes fill as she sees what's attached to the mail 2B sent her. She didn't think she'd really been listening. She dashes away the welling tears, and sets all her monitors to display the rose full screen. She doesn't need to, but it's nice to have it there, like she gets to see it in person, like she's surrounded by flowers. Perhaps it's a bit mean to live through 2B like that, but if 2B really minded, she could request to work with a different operator — 21O, perhaps. Though she thinks that would be a terrible fit. She almost made 2B smile, the other day! 21O wouldn't be able to get _that_ out of 2B.

She wishes they still used paper. She's read historical documents of humans writing letters to each other, on white pages, and pressing mementos between their leaves to keep them safe.

She'd like to think 2B would have written to her. That she'd find a handful of words and put them down, only to give her real message with a rose, selected for 6O to breathe in its scent, and taste her love as she kisses the delicate petals.

The photograph of the rose tells her the same. She loves her, in some way. 2B won't know what way, herself, 6O is sure. But she's okay with that. They don't have to know to enjoy it. She pulls down her comms veil, brushes her lips against the largest monitor, kissing the rose. She's back on duty in twenty minutes, but until then she pretends she's in a field of flowers, 2B with her, companionably silent.

*

Back when she was new, she'd been confused that everyone seemed scared of the commander. It's always been obvious how much the commander cares. How, if it were the best way forward, she'd take each and every one of them and hold them close, shield them from the machines and the war and keep the world spinning without a single one of them being lost.

She wants to apologise to her. They're all dying. And they're going to leave her so alone.

The warning lights are flashing all throughout the station, but 6O's vision has turned red, and it just registers as a pulse in time to the throbbing in her head.

As the virus flows through her, 6O realises, she never thanked 2B in person. She lurches forward, undignified, and in pain. "2B…"

2B's head snaps around. 

This is important. She has to thank her. "Tha—" her voice cuts out into a gurgle. She staggers forward. She _has_ to know. "2B—" static, "—nk you."

_Thank you for the rose, 2B._

I love it.

I love you.


End file.
